


Woodstock Academy

by DrIsaacDelirium



Category: Original Work
Genre: Belly Kink, Feeding, M/M, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrIsaacDelirium/pseuds/DrIsaacDelirium
Summary: Charlie, a borderline anorexic boy from an incredibly impoverished family, wins a scholarship to a prestigious private school with one weird quirk - everyone there seems to be overweight. Charlie, not wanting to stand out, quickly follows…
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1: Opportunity

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BE-  
Charlie slapped his alarm clock off of his bedside table and groaned when he saw the time. He had only just began stretching out his back when there came a furious knocking on his bedroom door.  
“Up! C’mon! Up! Get up!”  
“Okaaaaay!” Charlie shouted back, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. He sat up and winced as his bare feet hit the cold floorboards, stretching his arms upwards to get a kink out of his back. This was, naturally, the exact moment his mother decided to fling open his door without warning, causing Charlie to yank the duvet back around himself. Noticing that he was, in fact, awake, his mom retreated hastily, closing the door behind her.  
Charlie relaxed, letting the duvet fall back to the bed as he looked down at himself. His ribs were not just visible, but countable; his pelvis and shoulder blades stuck out prominently and his stomach was concave. They’d never had that much to eat in general but ever since Charlie’s mom had lost her job because she’d fallen pregnant (Charlie muttered a string of colourful descriptions of her former boss), they’d had one more mouth to feed and one less income to buy food with. They lived in a small shack about half a mile from the nearest city, meaning that the one car they owned - an ancient rust bucket that barely ran - guzzled a large portion of their money for fuel. Charlie had tried to convince his parents to let him get a job to ease the financial burden on the family, but neither his mom nor his dad would hear it, insisting that he shouldn’t have to until he was eighteen, which was two years away at this point. Charlie hadn’t the first idea what job he’d look for; well-paying employment was a precious commodity, with the higher wages being selfishly guarded by the rich while the poor were forced to do the least dignified jobs for a pitiful amount of money. If you attended a local school as a kid, you were pretty much doomed from the get-go; you needed to go to one of the fancy private schools to have any hope of living a halfway-decent life.  
Charlie pulled on the only nice shirt he owned - a hand-me-down from his father - and tugged up his baggy jeans, looping a length of rope through the belt loops as a makeshift belt; his trousers would be around his ankles without it as they were another hand-me-down. The shirt was especially chosen because it was his birthday today. Sixteen. Charlie didn’t expect any present, he never had, but it’s not every day you turn sixteen.  
The moment he left his bedroom, Charlie’s parents and three year old sister shouted, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”  
Charlie smiled bashfully, leaning into the hug his mom offered. “Thank you.”  
“What for?” His mom said, a sly grin on her face. “We haven’t even given you your present yet!”  
These words made him double-take and made his eyes widen in surprise. “But… Mom, we can’t afford presents. You shouldn’t have - “  
“Oh, don’t worry about money, sweetie.” His mom replied. “In fact, that kind of sums up the gift.”  
Intrigued, Charlie took the small, elegant envelope he was handed and opened it carefully. He’d fallen for this sort of prank from the school bullies plenty of times and he hoped the ‘present’ wasn’t from them.  
However, to his great surprise, all that fell out was a letter. Charlie recognised the importance of this letter, too - it was typed, not written, and the paper was the cleanest he’d ever seen; white as snow. He began reading:

Dear Parent/Guardian of Charles Smith,

I offer my congratulations to you and your son on winning the scholarship to Woodstock Academy and extend an invitation to a meeting on Friday the 14th August on campus to discuss Mr Smith’s attendance at the Academy. Formal wear will not be necessary and a taxi will be sent to your place of residence at 09:00 sharp to collect you.

Wishing you well,

David Andernald  
Dean of Woodstock Academy

Charlie put the letter on the table with trembling hands. “How… what… I…”  
His parents scooped him up in a tight hug as he started sobbing with happiness. His little sister Alice patted his leg and said, “Chawie cwying Mummy!”  
“Yes, darling, Charlie’s crying.” His mother said. “Hey, hey, it’s ok. We’re so proud of you!”  
Sniffing, Charlie waited until he stopped sobbing so hard to say, “I thought it was just a class test!”  
This elicited a chuckle from his parents, setting his sister giggling madly.  
“So what do I do, Mom?”  
His mother ruffled his feathery auburn hair and smiled. “It’s a boarding school in the city, really posh. I’ve heard they have free school meals, so you won’t have to suffer my cooking any longer!”  
Charlie let loose a watery laugh at that, remembering fondly all the wild recipients his mother loved to try out, much to the detriment of their taste buds. He then realised what she’d said first.  
“A boarding school? So…” he began to cry again, “I won’t see you for - “  
“A few months at a time.” His mom confirmed. “They’ll let you go home for the holidays but if you want to go to a friend’s house instead, that’s absolutely fine, ok?”  
Charlie smiled. “Friday the 14th, right? That’s tomorrow!”  
She nodded. “Better get you ready then! If all goes well, you’ll be starting on Monday with everyone else.”  
He couldn’t believe it. He was going to a private school. A proper, posh, gets-you-amazing-jobs private school. Charlie had to stop himself from jumping for joy - he might actually have a chance to succeed!  
—————————————————————  
DING-DONG!  
“They’re here! Charlie, quick, get your bag and get out that door! John, do you have spare clothes for Alice?”  
The family of four hurriedly grabbed everything they needed and rushed out the door to be met with a jaw-dropping sight.  
“That’s… that’s…”  
“A limousine!”  
Someone who looked like a butler stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the door for them. All four Smiths thanked him; Alice’s adorable “thank oo” made the butler crack a smile. Once they were all in, he got into the driver’s seat and they were off, zooming towards the city much faster than their rust bucket could dream of going. It wasn’t long before the butler pulled smoothly into a parking spot in front of the fanciest building they’d ever seen. Ornate carvings littered the front of the building as well as the pillars, the meaning of most of them lost to Charlie.  
The butler opened the door and the Smiths clambered out to stand, mouths agape, at the magnificent building before them.  
The grand oak doors opened and a kindly old man in long, flowing black robes swept out to greet them. “Hello! You must be the Smiths. Welcome to Woodstock Academy!”  
Charlie’s mom stepped forward and took his hand in a firm handshake. “Dean Andernald, I presume?”  
The dean smiled at her and nodded. “Please, call me David. ‘Dean’ makes me feel like a principal.” The adults all laughed at this and Charlie smiled politely. ‘David’ beckoned them to follow him and they hurried after him to keep up with his long strides. He led them through huge, majestic hallways, past many classrooms and then past the dormitory area before they finally reached the Dean’s Office.  
“Please, have a seat.”  
Charlie’s parents took a seat either side of him and Alice occupied herself with the children’s toys in the corner clearly meant for parental meetings.  
“I asked to meet with you a few days before term officially begins to brief you on what this scholarship entails. All yearly fees will be paid for by the school, as well as all meals and uniform. Charles will be given a small allowance each week to help him fit in with the other students more and no one, other than us, need know that Charles is here on a scholarship. You have a truly exceptional child here, Mr and Mrs Smith. I know that there will be great things in his future.”  
His mom sighed with relief. That the fees would be paid in full had been taken for granted, but meals and uniform were up in the air and the allowance was completely unexpected. “Thank you,” she said, “is there anything else we need to discuss?”  
“Just a few administrative things.” The dean replied. “Mr Smith, do you go by Charles or some other name?”  
“Charlie” said Charlie.  
He made a note of Charlie’s nominative preference and nodded to himself. “Any electives you would like to take straight away, or would you rather get settled in first?”  
“I’d like to get settled in first, if that’s ok,” Charlie replied, “this is my first time at a proper school and I want to make sure I don’t mess anything up.”  
The dean smiled and nodded. “You don’t need to worry, Charlie, we’ll give you all the time you need to get settled in. There’s no rush, and I’m always here if you need help.”  
Charlie nodded happily as the dean opened his mouth to speak once more.  
“There is one more thing I wished to speak to you about. To help integrate Charlie into Woodstock as smoothly as possible, may I suggest that he moves in today? Everything‘s ready - his dormitory, his uniform, and our chefs have already arrived.”  
His parents looked at each other and had a silent conversation before Charlie’s father turned to the dean and said,  
“That sounds like a great idea. Could we have a few minutes to say goodbye?”  
“Of course, take as long as you need.” Smiled the dean, gliding out the room swiftly. As soon as he left, Charlie’s parents enveloped him in a teary hug.  
“Oh, my beautiful boy is going to private school!”  
“Maw-hom!”  
His dad smiled and cuddled him tighter. “By parental decree, you shall remain hugged until such time as we deem fit.”  
Charlie giggled at that, pretending to put up with the hug for a few more minutes whilst secretly really enjoying it. Eventually, though, his parents let go and stood up. “Come on, Alice. Let’s not embarrass your brother any longer than we have to.”  
Smiling through his tears, Charlie gave them all one last hug before watching them leave the office and slumping back into his chair, dejected.  
Shorty after, the dean re-entered his office and beckoned to Charlie. “If you could follow me, please?”  
The two of them walked through the halls, Dean Andernald leading the way as Charlie trailed behind. Breaking the silence, the dean spoke up: “For the next few days until term starts, feel free to wander around to your heart’s content. Any time you feel hungry, just head to the canteen,“ - the dean handed Charlie a map - “and ask one of our world-renowned chefs to make you anything you desire. I wouldn’t say no to you from getting into your textbooks a little early, either.”  
Charlie frowned. “Is there a limited amount of food per pupil?”  
“Not at all, Charlie. Ask for as much as you want, whenever you want. There are also vending machines all around the school, free to use.” Seeing the doubt in Charlie’s expression, he added, “I know you’re probably not used to this amount of freedom with food - you certainly look underfed - but I assure you, you may eat however much you want of anything you desire.”  
The dean stopped talking and Charlie realised they’d arrived at what must be his dorm. “I’ve arranged for your dorm-mates to arrive today to help ease you into Woodstock life. They should be here within the hour.”  
“Thank you, sir.” Charlie said quietly. The dean looked at him kindly.  
“You know,” he said, “not to play favourites, but I think you’re the most polite student I’ve ever had. It’s refreshing to know that there are still some young people with decent manners.” Looking around the dorm, the dean sighed fondly and turned on his heel. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted with your new home.” He swept out of the room, simultaneously managing an air of grandeur and kindness.  
Charlie looked at the four beds and decided to take the bed furthest from the bathroom. He didn’t have a particularly strong bladder, but he figured that the people actually paying to be here should have the privilege of being closest to the bathroom.  
He’d just finished getting his stuff - which consisted of two outfits, a toothbrush and a pair of baggy pyjamas - unpacked when he heard a commotion outside. He assumed the position he’d learned through experience at his local school; making himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. Unfortunately, because he was the only person already in the room, the three boys immediately spotted him.  
Charlie tensed up, his fight or flight response firing up before one of them held out a hand. “Hi,” he said, “I’m Peter.”  
“James.”  
“Oliver.”  
They all sounded different - Peter had a distinct Scottish brogue, James had a slight American twang that spoke of someone well-travelled and Oliver had a nice Australian accent. Charlie warily shook Peter’s hand, saying, “I’m Charlie.”  
The other two nodded and said “Hey, Charlie!” Peter, however, picked up on his distress immediately and asked if he was OK.  
“Yeah,” He replied, “just a little nervous.”  
“Hey, don’t worry.” Peter stood and patted him on the shoulder. “It’ll pass. It’s just homesickness - hell, even I get it at the start of term.”  
That made Charlie feel a tiny bit better about missing home so much and he nodded in understanding.  
“So!” Peter clapped his hands and the other three boys looked at him questioningly. “Who’s hungry?”  
James and Oliver responded enthusiastically, but Charlie mumbled something about how he’d already had a sandwich at home.  
“One sandwich?” James said incredulously. “That’s not enough! Come on, let’s show you the dining hall!”  
Not wanting to be left out, Charlie followed his three dorm-mates towards the dining hall. What he saw there blew him away even more than the school itself.  
Long tables with benches either side stretched the considerable length of the room and vending machines lined the walls. At the other end of the hall was a counter, at which (Charlie presumed) you collected food.  
Peter, James and Oliver ran up to the counter and started bombarding the server with requests. It didn’t take long before they sat at a bench with trays piled high with all sorts of food Charlie had never seen before.  
He went to sit down next to them but Oliver insisted he ask for something. “If you don’t want a full meal just now, at least get a cupcake or something.”  
Charlie nodded, meandering up to the counter while wondering what a cupcake was.  
“Please may I have a… cup-cake?”  
“Of course, honey. Here you go.” The lady behind the counter handed him a small fluffy thing with some sort of substance on top. He took it back to the table, sat down and started unpeeling the wrapper.  
“I didn’t mean literally just a cupcake, you know.” Charlie looked up at Oliver as he spoke. “You can get more if you want.”  
Shrugging, he raised the cupcake to his mouth and took a bite -  
W-o-w.  
Flavour exploded in his mouth and a pleasant sensation flooded his brain as he chewed and swallowed, before ravenously stuffing the rest of the cupcake in his mouth. He looked at his dorm-mates, who were looking at him with something resembling amusement. “Good, isn’t it?”  
Blushing, Charlie looked towards the floor. “Sorry.”  
“No need to apologise!” Peter said hastily. “Just go up and ask for more if you want.”  
So Charlie did, many times. Each time he went up, he asked for more and more cupcakes and was less and less timid about it. He ate until he couldn’t eat any more and sat there, stuffed to the gills, until the other three boys had finished their meal. As they trudged back to their dorm, Peter nudged Charlie. “You think those cupcakes were good? Oh, that’s just the beginning. There’s a whole world of flavour here!”  
Charlie smiled in anticipation, decidedly less nervous about asking for food now that he’d experienced how readily abundant food was here.


	2. Chapter 2: Beginning The Plan

Music.  
That was apparently what was blaring loudly throughout the dorm block - the area of Woodstock where the dorms resided. Charlie had only ever heard his dad’s hilariously awful singing and his mom’s lilting harmony before; this was an entirely new experience. Leaning towards Peter, he said, “What song is this?”  
“What?” Peter shouted. Sighing, Charlie repeated himself loudly, shouting, “What song is this?” To be heard over the atrociously loud noise.  
“Drake!” Peter shouted back. [AN: That’s a popular singer, right?]  
Nodding to not seem like a complete idiot, Charlie turned back to his original position and gazed out over the crowd of partying teenage boys. According to his friends, dorm parties like this were commonplace and usually happened half a dozen times per term. When asked by Charlie if they were allowed to do such a thing, James said that it wasn’t just tolerated by the teachers, it was encouraged - apparently they thought it was a good way to let the students blow off some steam, or as Charlie heard it, they thought it was a good way to tire the students out.  
His first few weeks at Woodstock Academy had been some of the happiest of his life. Sure, he had plenty of happy memories with his parents and his sister, but they were always tainted by the gnawing hunger that used to plague him, or the cold that wracked the cabin even in the summer. His time at Woodstock had, in contrast, made his life at home seem like torment; life at Woodstock was bliss in comparison. Central heating, friends, schoolwork that was actually enjoyable, a warm, comfortable bed and best of all, as much food as he could ever want. Not just food like the stale bread back home - that was one of the only things they could afford to eat - but rich person food. Cakes and biscuits and roast dinners and full English breakfasts and every variety of sandwich under the sun; that was just a fraction of the food on offer. Despite living his entire life learning how to deal with hunger, when given the chance to throw that lesson out of the window, Charlie had grabbed it with both hands. He’d been eating whenever he had free time since he’d arrived at the Academy - and it was having an effect.  
He’d noticed when he’d awoken that morning that his stomach was no longer the concave shape that used to greet him every morning; instead, when he ran his hand from his collarbones to his waist, it glides smoothly from top to bottom with no bumps or dips. Rather than it’s usual taut, anorexic feel from his former life, his midsection was soft and warm to the touch. In fact, he looked fuller all over - his bones didn’t jut out any more; his ribs were barely visible. Even his complexion had improved, from white-as-a-sheet to a healthy colour similar to that of his dorm-mates. Remembering his intention to tell Peter about this new discovery, partially to ask why it had happened, Charlie leaned over again and poked him, beckoning him to follow him when Peter looked over.   
They walked out of the dorm block and into an empty classroom. Charlie closed the door behind them and sat down at a desk. Peter pulled up a chair and sat opposite him. “What did you want to talk about?”  
Charlie then proceeded to tell his friend about the changes he’d experienced over the last few weeks and ended his explanation by asking what caused it.  
“Well, isn’t it obvious?” Peter said, grinning. “You’re finally eating well and, by your description, you’re a healthy weight because of it.”  
Charlie frowned. His parents had always assured him he was perfectly healthy before he came to Woodstock. “Wasn’t I healthy before?”  
Peter’s eyes widened at this. “No! You were really skinny, dangerously so. It’s a good thing you got a scholarship here or - “  
“Shhhh!” Charlie held a finger to his lips and peeked out into the corridor. Once he was satisfied there was no one there, he closed the door again and sat back down. He’d told his dorm-mates the night he arrived, as an explanation of his sudden arrival and why they’d been asked to give up the last few days of their holidays, but he’d begged them not to tell anyone. From what he’d gathered from the dean, wealth and popularity were directly linked here, so if people found out he was poor, he would instantly become a big target for bullies. His dorm-mates had only confirmed his suspicions, so he was incredibly careful about discussing his scholarship.  
“Sorry!” Peter said hurriedly.  
“S’ok,” Charlie replied, “I wanted to ask you something.”  
“Shoot.”  
Over the past few weeks, spending almost all his time with his peers, he’d noticed something peculiar. Every single student at Woodstock - except Charlie himself - seemed to be overweight. The range of weight varied hugely, from boys who were just full in the face with tight clothing, to boys whose flab got wedged in doorways and who took an extra ten minutes to walk to classes. This intrigued Charlie greatly, as he hadn’t even seen an overweight person before coming to Woodstock, let alone an entire school full of them. Even Peter, James and Oliver were pretty chubby themselves.  
“Why is everyone… um…”  
“Fat?” Peter finished, Charlie nodding sheepishly. “Dude, we have loads of professional chefs making us whatever we want all day, we every day. We’re bound to gain weight. Plus, it’s become kind of a status symbol over the years here. The fatter you are, the richer you are, therefore the more popular you are; that sort of thing.”  
Satisfied with Peter’s answer, yet still with more questions, Charlie opened his mouth to begin asking one when Peter stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. “I enjoy talking to you, Charlie, but I am stressed from all the tests we had this week and my body is screaming at me to chill.”  
Charlie, afraid he’d done something tot said something to offend his friend, froze up for a few seconds before realising that Peter was joking. Smiling, he stood up and followed him out of the classroom back to the dorm party to ‘chill’.  
—————————————————————  
About a week later, Charlie was showering after a long day of school. He finished rinsing his hair and stepped out of the shower cubicle, wrapping a towel around his waist as he took in his reflection in one of the full-length mirrors situated in the large bathroom. Walking closer to it, he noticed he’d changed again from last week.  
His reflection seemed a tad wider than when he first noticed he was filling out and he had a bit more shape to himself again, rather than the flat board his torso had been last week. He patted his stomach, noticing that it was sticking a bit further out than it had been. It was still soft to the touch, but when he poked it, his finger sank into his flesh a little bit before bouncing out. His hands migrated upwards to his chest, where the slightest definition of pectorals could be found. They were different to the ones he’d heard his dad describe wistfully (and jokingly), however; Charlie’s chest, rather than having the beginnings of muscle, instead had a slight wobble to it and was, like his stomach, soft to the touch. His thighs were slightly thicker than they had been too; his butt was also slightly rounded - before he’d come to Woodstock, it had been flat as a board.   
After getting his pyjamas on (noting their slight tightness compared to last week), Charlie headed out of the bathroom to talk to Peter. After the party, he’d mulled over what Peter had told him all week, thinking about his desire to fit in and how, as easily the skinniest pupil at the school, he stuck out like a sore, impoverished thumb. As a result, he’d formulated a plan to resolve his obvious lack of wealth and he needed his best friend’s help to carry it out.  
“Peter!”   
The boy in question, who’d just been about to go to his bathroom, raised his eyebrows at Charlie questioningly.   
“I have a question.”  
Shrugging, Peter sat down on the edge of his bed. “What do you want to ask?”  
“Going by what you told me last week - about weight being a status symbol here - it’s really obvious that I’m on a scholarship. So, I’ve come up with a plan to fix that.”  
Peter frowned. “How can you fix poverty?”  
Charlie shook his head. “I can’t, but I didn’t mean that. I’m very obviously poor because I’m so skinny compared to everyone else. So I want to get fat to fit in better.”  
Pete had to hold back a laugh at the irony of the last statement, but quickly sobered up and nodded uncertainly. “Okay… so what’s your question?”  
Realising how weird his question actually was, Charlie hesitated before speaking up. “Will you help me get fat?”  
Peter shrugged again. “Sure! Friends help each other, right?”  
“Thanks.” Charlie said, relieved that Peter hadn’t laughed at him, but Peter wasn’t done:  
“Hold on, you want to be fat so you can fit in?”  
They looked at each other before breaking into fits of giggles at the ironic statement; they eventually stopped laughing and shook hands. “Ok, Charlie. Let’s make you fat, weirdo!”   
Charlie giggled again, nodding. “Thank you.”   
Not long after, the pair, collapsed into their beds, exhausted from their extensive giggling, both unknowingly thinking of the other.


	3. Chapter 3: First Feeding

The pleasant sound of birdsong gently roused Charlie from his slumber. Glad for the gentle awakening and not missing the loud blaring of his old alarm one bit, he rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, rolling over to grab his new phone and start playing a game on it. The weekly allowance the school gave him was more money than his parents earned in a month, and he felt extremely guilty that he had no way of sending them money, but with the aforementioned allowance he was able to buy a ‘smartphone’ like all the other boys had within a matter of weeks. He quickly grew addicted to it; the sheer volume of things the phone could do was wondrous to Charlie, who’d never even seen a mobile phone before he came to Woodstock. Entertaining videos on YouTube, entire novels on websites like Archive Of Our Own and Fanfiction.net, and best of all, video games. Although he spent a very large portion of his free time on his phone, Charlie was still a star pupil - top marks in every end-of-term assessment, homework always handed in on time and as a result of the first two, a fast friendship with all of his teachers. This was new and rather odd territory for him - Charlie was too kind a person to ever hate anyone, but he’d disliked most of his teachers in his old school. They were rude, unjust, and dealt out physical punishments on a whim. By contrast, the teachers here were much kinder, offering rewards (usually snacks) for good behaviour and well-thought-out answers rather than punishing bad behaviour. Charlie in particular appreciated this reward system, as it aligned perfectly with his plan.  
The plan in question - to get fat so he could fit in with everyone else so no one suspected him of poverty - was developing at a rapid pace. Nearly every moment of Charlie’s free time (and some of his school time) was spent eating as much junk as he could get his hands on. Pizzas, pastas, hot dogs, every type of candy under the sun - they all went down Charlie’s throat, adding globs of adipose to his steadily fattening frame.   
There was, however, an unexpected side effect of his expanding body. He still had to wear clothes, and given his anorexic appearance when he’d arrived, the dean had apparently given him the smallest size of uniform they had. He’d outgrown it last week and had sent Peter to ask for a new uniform in his place, as he’d been too embarrassed to leave his dorm in such a state, despite his dorm-mates’ reassurances. Peter had been able to successfully retrieve Charlie’s new uniform, but given his recent experience, Charlie was wary of pulling it on today in case he’d outgrown this one, too.  
Sitting up, Charlie looked down, feeling his new pouch of neck fat squish inwards. The first thing his eyes looked towards were his ‘moobs’ as Oliver had called them; chubby mounds of flesh that wobbled with each breath, ending in his nipples. Underneath his moobs was Charlie’s crowning achievement - his belly. A big, round, squishy and wonderfully soft ball of fat that slumped heavily on his thighs, which themselves were pressed tightly together. In the last few days, he’d noticed that he’d started moving from side to side whenever he walked anywhere. James had informed him that he was ‘waddling’; apparently a side effect of the weight gain was that his thighs thickened enough that his brain instinctively made him manoeuvre his legs around each other to cause minimal chafing, hence the waddling motion. Sitting down as he was, his ass spread out underneath his swollen form. Standing up, however, it bounced and jiggled endlessly in response to any and all movement, sloping downwards slightly from his lower back. Thick rolls of fat had grown slowly over the past few weeks on either side of his stomach at his waist to form fleshy handles - ‘love handles’, apparently - that were easy to grab ahold of. Charlie’s face had filled out, too; it was plumper and more cherubic than his previous gaunt visage. He spent a minute or two running his hands over his impossibly soft, wobbling flab, as he did every morning. Playing with his fatty stomach, Charlie felt a warmth pooling below his stomach, near his crotch. As he continued jiggling himself, the warmth spread to his whole body before condensing at his crotch right before a wave of blinding pleasure unlike anything he’d ever felt before numbed his brain.  
Gasping, Charlie fell back onto his bed, grinning stupidly. He lay there for a while, his large chest jiggling as he breathed heavily, before sitting up again and this time pushing himself into a standing position. Waddling over to his wardrobe, he picked out his dressing-gown, wrapping it around himself as he picked up the phone and phoned the kitchen to request his usual morning fare, a full English plus a various assortment of pastries and a stack of pancakes. Not long after he’d put down the phone, someone arrived outside with a trolley full of his breakfast. Charlie thanked the waiter who’d delivered it and pulled the trolley back to his bed, closing the dorm door behind him. The delicious smells emanating from his breakfast must have woken Peter up, because he was sitting on Charlie’s bed when he got back.  
“D’you want some?” Charlie always asked Peter this if he was awake when Charlie had his breakfast; although his plan had caused him to get much lazier and fatter, he still retained his inherently polite nature.  
“I might have some, but I want you to eat your fill first.” Peter said, smiling. “How do you expect to get fatter if you let me eat half your food?”  
Charlie frowned, but there was a smile poking through as he placed a hand on his belly and jiggled it. “I am fat!” He said, feigning offence.  
“You call that fat?” Peter replied with mock incredulity. “You’re practically wasting away!”  
Charlie giggled, reaching for a croissant and stuffing it in his mouth, crumbs falling down his fattened torso as he continued to laugh. His laughter was infectious and soon Peter was chuckling too. He quickly sobered, however, once Charlie began to slow down in his eating due to fullness. He was still cramming food in his mouth, but he was rapidly approaching the point of painfully overfull.   
“I *urp* think I might have overdone it a bit.” Charlie patted his stomach, jostling another burp from him as he felt his rock hard stomach underneath a thick layer of soft fat.   
“Nonsense,” Peter replied, “you’re never going to get fatter if you stop eating when you’re full. Come on, I’ll help you.”  
Too fat and full to care how weird this probably was, Charlie groaned as Peter fed him every single morsel of food on that trolley. Several times, he complained that he was too full and asked Peter to stop feeding him, but his friend would have none of it. After a particularly loud burp, Charlie leaned back slightly, allowing his belly some room to breath. Peter began rubbing his belly, squeezing it here and there. Again, Charlie ignored the weirdness of the situation in favour of focusing on how good it felt.   
Peter, meanwhile, was coming to some realisations of his own. He’d always liked being bigger; it meant he always had something to play with - his belly - and it meant that he could eat more than he otherwise would have been able to. Even once he’d hit puberty, he hadn’t realised just how much he liked fat. Watching Charlie go from so skinny he was barely there to very overweight had awakened in Peter a part of his sexuality he hadn’t even known existed; he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the soft wobbling mass of Charlie’s belly, couldn’t stop himself playing with it.   
In the corner, James groaned, clearly waking up earlier than he wanted to, and Peter’s hands left Charlie’s belly faster than lightning. Both boys were blushing madly as Charlie drew his dressing gown back around himself and began getting his uniform, while Peter ambled over to his wardrobe and gathered his own uniform.  
Charlie closed the curtain around his bed that they all had for privacy and began pulling up his trousers, trying to ignore the fact that his dick was straining against his boxers from his interaction with Peter. With difficulty, he managed to tug them over his globular ass, but ran into trouble when he tried to button them.  
Charlie couldn’t see the button; his belly overlapped at his waistband, but he kept trying to force it through the hole. Creamy white flab bulged between the flaps, impeding his efforts, and eventually, he gave up - there was too much of him for the trousers to fit.   
He tried his shirt next, which was, unfortunately, another button-up. Similarly to his trousers, the top few buttons - the ones that covered his moobs - fit reasonably easily into their respective holes, but he simply couldn’t button the lower half of his shirt.  
“Peter!” Charlie shouted, causing the boy in question to come running.   
“Yeah?”  
“Do you have any spare uniforms I can borrow in a larger size? My, um…” Charlie paused, blushing sheepishly. “My trousers and shirt won’t button.”  
Peter picked up on the embarrassment in Charlie’s voice and the underlying message - that he was too fat for his uniform again - instantly. Ignoring how much that turned him on, Peter nodded before remembering Charlie couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my mom always sends me here with loads of sizes ‘just in case’, so I should have a bigger size. Wait here.” Peter replied, before realising ‘wait here’ was a stupid thing to say to him and going wordlessly to his wardrobe. He knew Charlie’s uniform size off by heart from the first time he’d outgrown a uniform and so picked out the next size up and took it to him.  
“Here you go!”  
He threw the clothes through Charlie’s curtain and briefly got a glimpse of Charlie standing there, red as a tomato, in clothes that didn’t fit. Peter had to force himself to retreat before he did something stupid like step through that curtain and kiss him.  
A few minutes later, Charlie drew back the curtain, looking decidedly less embarrassed and much more comfortable. The uniform he wore was still tight - his moobs and belly were still outlined clearly - but judging by the distinct lack of sounds of struggle, they buttoned easily. Pulling on his new blazer, Charlie waddled out of the dorm, heading towards his first class, Biology. Peter followed him out, desperately trying not to stare at his friend’s ass as it wobbled away in front of him. Blushing, Peter forced his eyes upwards, putting the thought of Charlie’s weight to one side to think about -   
“Shit!” Peter blurted suddenly. Charlie looked back at him questioningly.  
“Did we have homework?”   
“Yes,” Charlie replied, grinning slyly, “and yes, you can copy off me.”  
“You’re the best, Charlie.”  
To Peter’s surprise, this statement caused Charlie to start blushing and he mumbled something that sounded like ‘shut up’. Smiling, Peter nudged Charlie and the two of them ambled off to class.


	4. Chapter 4: Posing The Question

Peter had been acting… oddly, to say the least.   
Charlie had never experienced anything like this before - then again, he’d only ever had one friend before Woodstock, so maybe this was normal, but he didn’t think so. The odd behaviour in question involved a lot of random hand-holding, cuddles and brief touches; their thighs bumping against each other under a desk and playing footsie in class among other things.  
If Charlie was being perfectly honest, he kind of liked the new attention. Every time Peter would just grab his hand out of the blue, Charlie would blush profusely before interlocking his fingers with Peter’s, an action that was quickly becoming instinct due to how often it happened. The little extra touches here and there were inexplicably comforting to Charlie; each one was like a gentle reassurance that his best friend was there for him. He’d been tentative to call anyone his best friend at first, for fear of getting too attached to them, but Peter was such a good friend that it would have been an insult not to give him the title.  
Then there was this weird fluttery feeling in his heart every time Peter smiled softly at him, or held his hand, or any time their eyes met for a little too long. It had started to get to the point where just being around Peter gave him those butterflies. Which was becoming an issue, because being around Peter also made him blush like mad; a clear indicator of his feelings. Thankfully, Peter seemed to have remained oblivious to Charlie’s rather obvious attraction to him.  
Peter had asked him why he was blushing a couple of times, but he’d managed to play it off as being embarrassed or tired. Still, he couldn’t keep this up forever.  
Meanwhile, Peter was freaking out. He was attracted to Charlie - liked him, even - but he couldn’t tell him why. If Charlie even suspected that Peter had agreed to fatten him up because he was more attracted to Charlie the fatter he was, he’d probably send his best friend running for the hills. As a result, Peter had elected to stay silent on this matter and just wait until the feelings went away. However, there was a tiny issue in that his feelings for Charlie only seemed to deepen with each passing day. Every day, the mere sight of his best friend made him blush nervously and fidget; this wasn’t helped by the fact that every day he saw him, Charlie seemed to be just a little bit fatter than he had been the day before.  
The ‘Feeding Incident’, as he’d dubbed it, had really opened Peter’s eyes to his newfound kink. He’d suspected it beforehand, but only really subconsciously. Actually having his hands on Charlie’s warm, soft, wonderfully flabby stomach had awakened in Peter feelings he hadn’t even really known he had. On the one hand, this realisation explained a lot, but on the other hand, it also contributed a lot to his current situation. He’d had this internal battle - tell him, stay silent - ever since the Feeding Incident, and had finally decided to steel his resolve and just tell Charlie how he felt.   
Speaking of which, Charlie came out of the bathroom, still damp from his shower, with a towel tied around his soft waist, his belly hanging over the towel slightly. Peter swallowed nervously.  
“Um… Charlie?”  
The boy in question looked up from the mini-fridge he was perusing. “Yeah?”  
*deep breaths deep breaths*  
“D’youwannagooutwithme?”  
Charlie raised an eyebrow and smiled. “What?”  
Peter blushed profusely and repeated himself, forcing himself not to rush - “D’you wanna go out with me?”  
Charlie frowned, unsure as to what he meant. “Go out where?”  
Peter started fidgeting and staring at his hands. “On a date.” He murmured, hoping that his best friend heard that and wouldn’t ask him to repeat himself again. He presumed he was correct, as Charlie blushed a deep red and took a few second a before muttering, “yes” at the same volume.  
“Yes!?”  
“Yep.” Charlie replied shyly, slipping his fingers as he sat down on Peter’s bed. “I didn’t know if you felt the same or not, so I didn’t tell you. Sorry.”  
Peter only heard about half of this; his brain was telling him to lean over and kiss his friend (boyfriend?) senseless, but at the same time, Peter didn’t want to overwhelm him. Still, the sight of Charlie’s belly sitting on his chubby thighs, his plump moobs sitting proudly atop it, caused a… situation downstairs that he had to immediately clamp a pillow over lest Charlie notice it and freak out. His boyfriend was too quick for him, however, and looked down at the pillow frowning. “I’m not that attractive, am I?”  
“Yes.” Peter replied stubbornly yet sweetly. “You’re the most attractive person I’ve ever met.”   
Charlie blushed even more and looked down at himself shyly, poking his belly. Peter gulped as he watched it sink several centimetres into the fatty flesh. “But I thought…”  
“The plan isn’t going to make me less attracted to you,” Peter reassured him, “in fact, it might… no, never mind”  
“What?” Charlie asked, gently nudging him.  
“It might make me even more attracted to you.” Peter mumbled, clearly embarrassed. He looked up at Charlie, expecting to see him standing up, disgusted, and marching out the door. Instead, he was met with Charlie’s breathtakingly beautiful face, all freckles and dark, messy, long hair, cherubic cheeks and a slight double chin. The perfect picture of adorableness.  
Peter didn’t even realise he was leaning in until their faces were centimetres apart and he could feel Charlie’s breath on his lips.  
“Is it ok if I… “  
Charlie nodded slightly, closed the distance between them and their lips met.  
Peter sighed with happiness into the kiss, melting against his boyfriend’s soft, flabby form as he wound his hands into Charlie’s hair. Kissing Charlie, despite being Peter’s first time doing so, felt startlingly and comfortingly familiar; it felt as though he was collapsing into his bed after a long day of schoolwork to find pure happiness waiting for him. He smiled, accidentally breaking the kiss as he did so.  
“Stop smiling,” Charlie giggled against his lips, “I can’t kiss you if you’re smiling.”  
Giggling, Peter kissed him again, and again, and again, and then experimentally probed with his tongue. Charlie’s lips parted for him and his tongue rushed forth, moving smoothly against Charlie’s, eliciting a moan from the other boy. Peter’s hands left Charlie’s hair and sank into his flabby stomach, squeezing and jiggling it, causing Charlie’s moans to increase in pitch and his breathing to get more frantic.  
“Wow,” he panted, “you really do like this.” Charlie gave an honest-to-God whine and pulled Peter’s lips back to his own, slipping his tongue into his open mouth. One of Peter’s hands began to slip lower until it was pressed against Charlie’s dick through the towel, causing his hips to jerk up into Peter’s touch. With the combined input of Peter stroking his dick and squeezing his belly, it didn’t take long before Charlie was groaning Peter’s name and going limp in his arms. Peter, meanwhile, dry-humped Charlie’s fatty stomach for a mere minute before coming in his jeans.  
“Y’know,” Peter said, “I think we could both do with a shower.”  
Charlie giggled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m not exactly the cleanest just now.”  
They got up and made their way into the bathroom, where Peter stripped and Charlie dumped his towel on the floor. He then turned the shower on, but before he could get in, Peter touched his arm, causing him to turn back questioningly.  
“The whole plan thing… getting fat… do you still want to…”  
“Yeah.” Charlie replied. “I mean, I like it, and you said you do too, so… why stop?”   
Peter nodded, breathing out in relief. “I just thought that I might have weirded you out or something - “  
Charlie leaned in and silenced him with a long yet tender kiss. “You’re never gonna weird me out with anything, especially not that.”  
They smiled at each other dreamily before the sound of the shower brought them back to earth and made them realise that they still hadn’t done what they were in the bathroom to do. Peter showered first, then Charlie (who just took a quick dip given that he’d already showered). The bell rang and they both rushed to get dressed before hurrying to class, giving the excuse that Charlie had needed help getting his uniform on. This was a generally accepted excuse at Woodstock, given the fact that every student was overweight to some degree, which had been almost alien to Charlie at first - back at his local school, they’d had to be on time or the teachers were allowed to give them the belt - but, like many other things at Woodstock, it was easy to adapt to, and Charlie soon adopted the practice of lying through his teeth to his teachers if he ever needed an excuse for being late, like so many of his peers.  
When they got back to the dorm that evening, Charlie and Peter snuggled up on Charlie’s bed, drifting off to sleep almost immediately. When Oliver and James came to wake them for dinner and found them sleeping adorably in each other’s arms, they both ‘awwwwww’ed and gently shook them awake.  
“Ten bucks.”  
“Fine.”  
“Thank you.”  
Charlie looked at them, confused, then looked at Peter and burst into giggles. Their laughter was infectious and soon all four boys were veritably collapsing to the ground with laughter, only heightened when Charlie’s pyjama shirt was ripped slightly by his rippling flab. Peter immediately had to excuse himself and went to the bathroom, closely followed by Charlie, leaving James to share a look with Oliver before following him out the dorm.


	5. Chapter 5: Year’s End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally planned for this story to have two more chapters, so if I ever get round to writing those, I’ll post them here.

Instead of the usual pleasant birdsong that he’d grown accustomed to, Charlie awoke to silence, slowly blinking tiredness out of his eyes. He rolled sideways and, after a few tries, managed to sit up. The bed next to him was empty, which was weird, but he shrugged it off and gazed down at himself.  
Over the school year, with Peter’s help, he’d swelled up like a balloon, each day making him softer, jigglier, bigger - fatter. Standing up, his belly now rested on his tree-trunk-esque thighs, but sitting down as he was currently, it forced them wide apart to allow itself room to sag down onto the bed between them. It reached almost all the way out to his knees and was split into two massive rolls by his belly button, which was now so cavernous that he could fit his entire finger in it. Further up his body, his moobs had plumped up to become wobbly balls of fat, jiggling wildly whenever he breathed. Charlie’s ass spread out underneath him, the widest part of him and also probably the saggiest. His neck was packed with flab, chins bouncing merrily during speech and eating. His face had become pretty much entirely round and he moved only at an extremely exaggerated waddle.   
Heaving himself to his feet, Charlie waddled over to his phone and plucked it from his bedside table, turning it on to check the -   
“Shit!” Charlie swore, freaking out as he saw 12:30 glaring back at him. “Shit shit fuckity fuck fuck dammit!”  
Grabbing the tent-sized casual clothing the school had provided him with, he stuffed his vast form into them, grabbing handfuls of fat and squeezing them into his chosen outfit. Muttering a colourful string of words, he waddled as fast as he could towards the dining hall - 12:30 was, after all, lunchtime.   
Heaving and puffing, red-faced and sweaty, Charlie finally arrived at the dining hall. He quickly located his dorm-mates, waddled over to them and greeted Peter with a kiss before frowning at the other two, whom he had classes with before lunch. “Were any of the teachers mad at me?”  
Oliver shook his head, saying, “they’re always a bit lax on the last couple of days before summer - we’ve completed the course in every subject, so I guess they don’t care what we do.”  
Sighing with relief, Charlie waved a waiter over and asked for a rather extensive list of food. At his friends’ raised eyebrows, he protested, “I missed breakfast! I’m entitled to indulge a little!”  
“Or a lot,” James smiled, reaching under the table to poke Charlie’s enormous belly, causing him to blush a deep red. James and Oliver exchanged a look, before Oliver spoke.  
“Charlie, we, um… we wanted to ask something.”  
Charlie made a garbled noise around his mouthful of fried chicken and took a few seconds to finish said mouthful before saying “Shoot.”  
Oliver gulped nervously. “We - that is, James and I - were wondering… um…”  
“Why’d you get so fat?”  
Oliver whacked Jamie on the arm while Peter looked mortified and Charlie began giggling, sending waves of motion across his flab. He exchanged a glance with his boyfriend, who nodded almost imperceptibly, before continuing.  
“Well, originally, I was just trying to be like everyone else, y’know? I was trying to disguise the fact that I’m poor. But then I realised I like it, and Peter didn’t exactly object, so…”  
“Wow.” Jamie looked astonished, while Oliver - ever the inquisitor - looked intrigued. “What do you mean, you like it?”  
Charlie shrugged and began absent-mindedly rubbing his vast belly under his shirt. “I just love eating all this amazing food; having what I want, when I want, and however much of it I want. Being this big,” he patted his stomach for emphasis, “feels pretty good too.”  
“Seconded.” Peter murmured, quiet enough that Charlie could hear it but the other two boys weren’t aware he’d said anything, causing both Charlie and Peter to blush deeply.  
James and Oliver resumed their lunch, delving into a conversation about the Battle of Polytopia (Charlie presumed it was a game and made a mental note to check it out later). Peter, however, stood up and gestured for Charlie to follow him. He pouted and pointed at his lunch, but Peter shook his head and beckoned Charlie again. Rolling his eyes, he muttered, “This better be good.”  
The couple made their way back to the dormitory; Peter made sure to lock the doors behind them, before heading into the bathroom.  
Presuming he wanted to shower, Charlie pulled off his clothes and tossed them on his bed, grabbing a towel and lumbering into the bathroom, to be greeted with a naked Peter, his dick standing to attention against his chubby belly.  
Charlie grew hard at the sight of his boyfriend standing naked in the shower, glistening from the water, and waddled over to him. Squeezing into the cubicle, he was immediately pushed up against the wall by his boyfriend, Peter’s hands sinking into his vast form as he pressed himself against Charlie and kissed him.  
Charlie made a noise of surprise that quickly turned into a moan as he felt Peter’s dick rubbing against his stomach. Charlie wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, trying to grind his dick against Peter’s but grinding it against the underside of his own belly instead, which was somehow even hotter.   
Peter groaned as he rubbed his dick against Charlie’s belly, watching it sink into his boyfriend’s deliciously soft fat. The sensation of his dick being pressed tightly against by flab on all sides made Peter gasp as he humped Charlie. He felt himself get closer and closer to coming until -   
“Wait.” Charlie said shyly, nudging Peter, who begrudgingly and confusedly backed off.   
“Do you not want to - “  
“Of course I do,” Charlie replied, “but I wanted to try something different if that’s ok?”  
Grabbing his endlessly soft stomach, Charlie squeezed it, eliciting a moan from himself, before lifting it up to allow Peter access to his dick. As the realisation of what Charlie was asking of Peter dawned on him, he blushed bright red and got down on his knees. He gave Charlie’s dick a few strokes of his hand before gripping the base in one hand and licking his way up it and taking Charlie in his mouth.  
The feeling of Peter’s warm, wet mouth around him caused Charlie to buck do violently in pleasure that his belly slipped out of his hands and rested on Peter’s head. Likewise, the feeling of Charlie’s hot, fatty flesh encasing him completely caused Peter to grind his dick against Charlie’s leg, desperate for any friction. After about a minute filled with moaning and panting and groaning, Charlie moaned,  
“Peter, I’m gonna - “  
Peter waved away his boyfriend’s concern and greedily lapped it up when Charlie finally came explosively in his mouth. Wiping his mouth, Peter stood up and frotted against Charlie’s great white ocean of stomach fat for a mere half minute before moaning his name and coming all up his front.  
Gasping, the two boys quickly showered off, Charlie slicking his flabby rolls with soap as Peter rubbed shower gel into his own chubby belly and slight yet pert moobs. Feeling themselves up in the shower like this had a similar effect to the sight of each other naked and soon their hands were on each others’ dicks again, groaning as they jerked each other off before cleaning up again and finally getting out the shower and dressing.  
A few hours later, Charlie stood outside the school with his suitcase and Oliver, watching James get into his parents’ car - likely one of many. Peter’s parents had arrived 15 minutes earlier and had reassured Charlie that he was welcome anytime.   
“Any plans for the summer?”  
Charlie shook his head. Making sure no one else was listening, he leaned in and said, “We can’t afford to go anywhere; besides me going to Peter’s, I probably won’t be going anywhere.”  
Oliver nodded. Charlie returned his question in kind and he replied that he was much the same, except his reason was that his parents were too busy with work to take him anywhere and so confined him to the house.  
“Wait, so are your parents picking you up, or…”  
“The school chauffeur is driving me home.” Charlie replied. “I don’t think I’d fit in my parents’ rust bucket anymore,” he said, jiggling his massive belly, “and I also want to prolong their lack of knowledge of my new weight for as long as possible to avoid embarrassing questions.”  
Oliver grinned and poked Charlie in the belly. “What about this is embarrassing?”  
Charlie giggled, but quickly sobered enough to answer. “We’ve never had much money so I’ve been skinny my whole life - my whole family has. So by coming home having fattened up like a prize hog, I feel like I’m going ‘hey look at me, look how much free food I get to eat.’”   
Oliver shrugged. “I can’t tell you what they’re gonna think, mate, but just explain to them why you started getting fat in the first place and hopefully they’ll understand.”  
Charlie nodded again and watched as the black limousine that had brought him here pulled up next to him. “Well,” he said to Oliver, “have a good summer.”  
“You too, mate.” Oliver replied, waving as the limo pulled away from the school. Charlie watched him through the rear windscreen as the school receded from view. “I’ll be back next term.” He reminded himself.  
He was going home.


End file.
